Come For Me
by ADistantShore
Summary: It starts out with Inej having a theory... things happen, people are confused - and I find I cannot write without ANY plot at all, so this turned from a smutty one-shot to a multi-chapter thing that will contain my take on background stories, as well ;)
1. 01: INEJ

AN: Not my first fanfic but my first one under this pseud, for this fandom, and containing explicit descriptions. I'm sorry I couldn't resist the title XD

* * *

 _INEJ_

She had a theory, and she had a plan. Inej felt her palms get clammy and wiped them on her loose pants. The last thing she needed was having second thoughts now. She had spent the last two days thinking this through. Then again, something was definitely about to happen, either way... So fear was an appropriate companion, she supposed. As great the risk she had decided to take was, it was their only hope. They needed something more before she disappeared out onto the sea to take her parents back home, and to continue for her first hunting. And it was her turn now, she had realized. She had been a breath from walking away forever, that day on the quai.

Kaz was inscrutable, and his words had so often driven her to distraction, burning anger and contempt. She had only started seeing the pattern, or started to believe it was more than a figment of her imagination, that day on the ship talking with or listening to Nina. Whenever he did something kind he made up for it in double measure of coldness in words and mean inconsequentials. He had had that hateful facade fully perfected before thay had ever met. Those hurtful words were the most important part of his armor, she knew now. Violence played its part, too, yes, but what secured his power and reputation lay all in his knowledge and the abrasive way he treated even those on his side. Nina had noticed the discrepancy lately, and it had taken Inej herself almost as long to understand the mechanisms.  
Yet Kaz actions had never left any doubt. He had taken her away from the Menagerie. He had allowed her to decide on her affiliation to the Dregs. He had not ever demanded anything of her but that she did her job like all the rest of his crew. Then came the net... and he had given her her contract, her family, and her ship. Inej could still feel her heart hammering in her chest every time she thought about it. Talk was cheap, when it came down to it. But he had done all that. And finally he had scattered her doubts and desparation at the future with as little as an outstretched, bare hand.

He wanted to fight. He had told her before, and she had decided she needed to take him at his word. There would not be any pistols involved tonight. Still, if she was wrong, this could end just as horribly. Damn it. She knew what she was doing, at least, she told herself. But that was another part of the problem. She was frightened of his reaction, but she was even more frightened she might start feeling... professional. This was the very opposite of professional. It had to be a first for her just as it was for him, or it would not work at all.

With a last longing look at the stars twinkling up in the black-blue sky she slid through the window, as she had done so many times before. The room was in its usual cluttered state. She took her favorite perch at the window. Minutes later she heard the familiar staccato sounds of the cane on the last steps. She willed him to stop and leave. She willed him to enter his room. And she prayed she was not wrong about all of this.

If she was willing to believe in signs sent by the Saints, the next minute would certainly qualify. Kaz smiled slightly, as he noticed her shadowed against the window pane. A rasped "Wraith" was sent her way, before he walked into the small bathroom to wash after another long day. Inej's eyes were drawn to his lean, well-muscled back, and she knew she was still staring while he limped back to his chair, where a fresh shirt was already laid out.

With a sense of utter unrealness, she moved to stand in front of the chair.

"Come to say goodbye?" She could hear he was nervous. Curiously, it calmed her nerves.

"Sort of", she murmured. "I have a theory."

"Regarding-"

Inej opened her tunic and the thin material slid from her shoulders.

He stared at her naked torso, completely stunned, obviously unable to tear his eyes off her breasts. She could feel a tiny smile forming. Maybe it was going to be all right. If they could keep to the rules. She took a step towards him, his eyes still drinking her in. His pupils were so dilated she had serious doubts he could be seeing much.

With the next step, he _had_ to look at her face, because there was less than a hand's breadth between them. Still, they were not touching. She saw the flutter of darkness behind his gaze and immediately leaned a fraction forwards. He drew in a sharp breath when her nipples touched his skin.

"Inej." Toneless. But no panic, possibly yet, only disorientation.

"Shh." She did not put her finger on his lips, altough she wanted to very much. "Trust me?"

All he managed was a tiny dip of his head.

She sidled up a little closer, and was rewarded by feeling another, very distinct reaction against her belly. Kaz eyes fluttered shut, and she was willing to let it go for now. At least she had been right about one thing. There was absolutely nothing wrong with his body, or its reactions to this kind of closeness. This was too new, and too different. So her theory might just hold. If she could hold herself together as well. Inej let her fingers trail lightly over Kaz's shoulders and his chest, listening to his shallow breathing. He was pretty close to hyperventilating himself into a faint there, but no sign of the Panic taking a hold, she decided. "You might want to sit down, Kaz", she whispered. "Not the chair."

Without opening his eyes, he took two backward steps and sat down on his bed inelegantly. She gently pushed at his shoulders until he was lying on his back, never breaking skin contact. She knew he was more than half hard already, and when she gently pinched his right nipple now, the one closer to her, he gave a moan that neatly filled all of the room. Inej was more shocked at her own reaction than Kaz's, though. This plan was proving things she had not dared put in her theory, she realized. But now was not the time for contemplating this. Before she could lose her nerve she moved a little, still kneeling on the bed, and opened the belt at Kaz's hip. With trembling fingers she managed the buttons, too.

Relief surged through her when Kaz helped with the tricky bit of pushing his fine cloth pants down to his knees, lifting his lower body using his good leg only. That still left his short, rather baggy underpants, but she could with that. Or around that. She almost smirked, until she realized Kaz was lying all too still. First rule of the game: never give either of them a moment to think. She let her fingernails trail the length of he bulge in his underpants and felt his cock twitch. The low moaning breathing was back, too, and she realized she could easily get drunk on it. After a dozen trips of her fingers up and down, there was a sheen of sweat covering both of them. With a mental kick at herself she made herself tug those underpants down, gently lifting them in front to avoid another halting moment.

She had no idea what she had expected, but the sight of this very normal, if handsome boy struck her nonetheless. He was pale, his body hair in stark contrast to his flawless skin, though it was not quite as dark as his crow's black head. She had liked his lean build from the start, but she also liked his straight, non too lean, and right now very eager cock, she decided. And no one would have been more surprised by this than herself. All the fretting, and all she thought of right now was how she could make him keep making those noises. Inej settled down more comfortably, propping herself up on her elbow.

She stroked him, unhurriedly and lightly at first, but without a moment's pause. Tremors ran through him, whenever she applied a little more pressure, and though he tried to keep quiet, he was having less and less success with that. Inej quickly slicked her palm with her tongue, allowing herself a little sigh at the smell and taste he had left there. His cock strained towards her hand, and when she gripped him properly now, Kaz's hands fisted in the sheets, his mouth opened slightly, and he moaned on every breath until it turned into panting. This was him without armor. Saints, how deeply he must trust her. She could not even imagine what it took him to allow her seeing him this vulnerable. She felt tears in her eyes. One day she wanted to be able to do the same for him.

"You need to let go", she choked out. After a few more strokes she lost her nerve, knelt up and ran her tongue along the ridge on his cock's underside. Then she gave its head a quick, thorough suck and quickly leaned back. His back arched and he cried out, then gasped an almost unitelligible, broken "Inej" before he came all over his stomach.

She stroked him through the pulses, until the very last of the tension was gone. Then Inej took her hand back and hoped.

She watched Kaz return to his senses slowly, very slowly for him, she thought. He opened unfocused eyes after a minute, flickering to her face. With an unidentifiable sound he covered his face with both his hands. "I... Hell, I am sorry", she heard, muffled. "I am so-"

"What the fuck, Kaz." Inej snorted. She felt too giddy to watch her words, but the relief was overwhelming.

He finally looked at her, his cheeks blotchy red and white. "I... You didn't... You should not..."

"You don't get to tell me what I should or shouldn't do, Kaz. And this was all me, so what could you possibly be apologizing for?"

Kaz bit his bottom lip, searching her face for something. Revulsion? Regret? He didn't believe her, that much was clear.

"I have never wanted this before, true enough. But I have never felt like this either." She decided to risk taking his hand. There was no adverse reaction at all, he was still flying high, she thought. Without that stupid, brilliant head on his shoulders they could even have tried kissing tonight. But he was already on his way back to control. She quickly brought his hand up against her belly, then pushed it further until she could slide it into the warm wetness between her legs.

Kaz closed his eyes tight and sucked in a shuddering breath. When he looked at her again a second later, something like awe and profound confusion mingled in his eyes, to be replaced by lust a moment later. The effect on his body was immediate and undeniable. He took his hand back and gave a dissonant groan, clearly embarrassed and lost for words.

"Without armor," she reminded him. Hoping he saw she was talking about herself as much as him this time.

"Without clothes too?" he grumbled.

She laughed at that. "Whatever it takes to fight our way out."

Kaz stilled, considering. His gaze felt so intense she could feel her skin heating up.

Inej rose from the bed. "I should be going." The high would only last so long, she knew, even if he did not, and there was no way she'd risk what headway they'd made. If he was going to panic about this later, he could do so in private, she decided. She tied her tunic and found her slippers, ruthlessly suppressing her need to look at Kaz watching her, or touch him again. Kiss the shell of his ear or slide her hands through his mussed-up hair. She would do all those things, she promised herself, but not tonight. Rule two: keep your touches to the absolutely necessary minimum.

She had almost come to believe he'd dispense with further words, but when she finally did turn in order to hoist herself on the sill, he spoke up, after all. "Were you not afraid?"

She felt herself blushing a little but forced herself to be honest. "Not once I saw it worked. For you, I mean. Before, I was afraid you might push me away."

"I would have if I could have." Bitter words, but all she heard was wonder and puzzlement. "Tell me about this theory now?"

"I'm sure you're smart enough to figure that one out," she told him, smirking. She swang her legs out of the window. Looking over her shoulder, she cast one last look at the boy on the bed. She would not see him on the quai tomorrow, she was certain. "We both needed something to think about while I'm gone. And I didn't want it to be only fretting and fear."

He was about to reply something, but she was aready sliding down the shingles, leaving the window open so her crows could wake him in the morning.

* * *

A one-shot that could easily be expanded, obviously. Tell me what you're thinking, please? I am dying to know if this works!


	2. 02: JESPER

_AN:_ _Jesper decided he wanted in on this story as well... I hope you'll enjoy!  
I'd love comments on whether or not you want me to keep putting in chapters like this, which are not the smut the first chapter promises ;)_

 _Also:_ _This is the NEW chapter, though I have to move it to the position of Chapter 2 for chronological reasons... Sorry for making this difficult XD_

* * *

 _JESPER_

No matter that they all knew by now it was a smoke screen Jesper couldn't fight down his anger at Kaz Brekker. "Wouldn't have killed him," he muttered loud enough for only Wylan to hear. Or so he'd thought.

"It's fine," Inej told him.

"Just because you were expecting it doesn't mean it's all right," Wylan replied, unexpectedly. Inej just shrugged and licked her bottom lip, betraying her unwillingness to talk the topic of Kaz Brekker. Maybe it was to do with her parents just a few steps down the quay, but Jesper got a different impression. "He's probably having us surveilled," she finally said, not quite joking.

"Nothing like good old overbearance when you cannot deal." Jesper shut up when she looked away, the slim column of her neck bare and vulnerable in the early morning light. She fixed her gaze on the little ship that, to Jesper, looked almost twitchy as though it couldn't wait for its departure. For a moment, he felt torn. He was certain Inej already knew most things he could possibly tell her. Besides, she did need to take her parents back home.

Jesper let his eyes skip from the girl standing beside him to the slender, beautiful woman that looked so much like his friend. Abril Ghafa seemed hardly old enough to be Inej's mother and Jesper wouldn't have had any trouble believing this was a vision of Inej years from now. Tranquil, honest, collected, self-possessed. Jesper had often enough marveled at the stillness his friend radiated. She was his exact opposite in so many ways, and he'd loved her for it for ages. Together the three of them had been like a perfectly balanced puzzle, hadn't they? It was all over now.

Wylan nudged him with his elbow. The merchling didn't say a word, but then he didn't have to. Jesper knew his face tended to give away too much.

"I'll be back before you know it," Inej said, finally turning back to them with a small smile on her lips. She hugged Wylan, then stepped up to Jesper. Her arms locked tightly around his ribcage, and as she pressed her face against his chest, he heard her whisper. "Don't let the city kill itself while I'm gone."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Jesper swallowed, knowing he'd just made a promise. He reconsidered. Knowing that it all was a smoke screen really made it _worse_ that Kaz had decided not to turn up because he had nothing to lose. Fuck him, he'd given her a ship. He had struck a deal with the Ravkan king to get her parents. And that was after all the other stupid things he'd done for her. Jesper wondered if he were jealous, and if so, of whom.

 _The Wraith_ was ready, waiting only for her captain to come aboard. Inej Ghafa did not hesitate, stepping into her new life. And she turned around to watch her mother and father cross the narrow plank after her, making sure they were safe. Jesper did not believe in premonitions at all – and if such things existed he would be the last person to have them. Or the second-to-last, he thought.

"What's the matter, Jes?"

Wylan always kept his hands to himself in public, but suddenly Jesper wished he could just hold on to something. He felt like the world's biggest idiot. The most sentimental of the lot, wasn't he? He'd spent – or wasted – years trying to get under Kaz Brekker's skin. He'd tried to carve a special place out for himself, and he still didn't know if it had ever worked; how much exactly he'd destroyed through his involuntary betrayal. _Missed around the Slat…_ He knew Inej didn't lie to him, never had, but he just couldn't imagine Kaz saying what she had relayed to him. "Nothing at all."

"You are the worst liar I've ever met."

"I am not." Jesper fell silent and Wylan paled. "Fuck this." Everything was falling apart. They'd lost Helvar, they'd effectively lost Nina and now the Wraith was gone, too. All of a sudden he realized what Helvar had been talking about, and Inej had recognized, too. The anger came to the surface in a rush now that his life had arrived at another dead end. He had never expected that reaching his goals would mean losing all that meant anything to him.

Wylan was stepping away from him, following _The Wraith'_ s movements, down the quay, waving rather shyly, and Jesper allowed himself to stare for a moment. Not losing everything, he told himself. Though he knew the odds of him messing this up were pretty high. He loved flirting and the thrill of not knowing how far he'd be able to get with someone – but he had absolutely no idea how to be in a relationship. If that even was where this might be going… Yet, through extensive studies he knew damn well that giving mixed signals, not speaking one's mind and locking people out that you wanted _in_ were a sure way to make them leave eventually. If anything, he should have learned this one lesson.

* * *

Something was different. The Barrel seemed strangely muted, all the hits it had taken over the past few weeks had torn more of a hole into the fabric than Jesper had expected. Despite its low ethics, the complexity of the order here was not far below that in the wealthy merchers' quarters. As he began to understand more about the goings-on in a trading company the less different it all seemed. Kaz had been right, more so than he had given him credit for. Not that Jesper had cared all that much. He'd found a reason with the Dregs, and one that had nothing to do with money in itself. He had a purpose, came soon to be well-respected for his sharpshooting and well-liked for his easygoing, undemanding manner. Undemanding. Jesper stopped walking in the middle of the street as the word sank in. A mule-driver started shouting abuse at him and he continued on his way.

The Slat was sleepy this time of day. A few familiar faces turned his way when he entered, and he shared a few words with Rotty and Pim. But he felt them hold back on their comments, even though they asked him if the rumours about the Wraith were true. What rumours, he asked, and apparently the story went that Inej had up and abandoned the Dregs on some private mission in Ravka. Jesper shrugged noncommittally.

"Brekker won't comment either way," Rotty complained. "Anyway, he…" A silent glare from Pim had him shut up.

"What is it?" Jesper enquired, smiling. He was still one of them, right?

"Nothing at all."

* * *

"What business?" Kaz resided behing the lavish, carved desk that screamed Haskell's former ownership. Apart from good-quality chlothes, Kaz had never seemed particularly interested in anything that could be had for money, Jesper thought. The combined effect of the heavy mahogany desk and Kaz's austere merchers' attire was slightly disturbing. This looked more like a mercher's office than Wylan's over at the Van Eck mansion did.

"A round of social calls," Jesper replied easily. He was determined not to stick out his neck just to get hit over the head. If Inej had spoken the truth, or rather if Kaz had been serious in what he had said, he could damn well come out first. It had always been a little like that between them, Jesper thought.

"I expected you to take longer to get tired of the comfortable merchers way of life," Kaz observed, but for once there was not sharpness behind the words. Just some curiosity, possibly even a hint of concern.

Jesper was confused. "Maybe you should just stop expecting things from people."

"You know full well I don't. I usually make sure I am the one to motivate their actions."

Jesper got a headache just trying to untangle this one. He knew it was true on some level, still it made no sense at all. "You saying you enjoy making your own life miserable?"

It was the first almost-laugh that he had gotten out of Kaz in a damn long time. Jesper hated himself for the glitch it caused in his heart.

"Want a rundown of recent events?" Kaz offered, and when Jesper nodded, he picked up his cane and stood. "Let's go get some waffles."

Jesper goggled. He'd half expected to be kicked out of this office in a matter of moments, he realized. But Kaz seemed in no hurry to get rid of him. Relieved, and slightly alarmed, Jesper followed the Dregs' boss out into the sunlit streets. Kaz kept talking in his rugged, quiet tones, as they passed the now cleaned-out ruin that had been the White Rose. The establishment had not opened again though most of its employees had not been harmed in the bombing. But traffic around the Goedmedbridge was still sluggish as if danger was lingering, and business accordingly slow anyway. Gang activities were also at an all-time low. The coalition the gang bosses, all of them, had entered with the _stadwatch_ had left uncertainty in its wake as to how the city meant to deal with Barrel business in future. Jesper learned that Kaz, as well as the other remaining bosses, were heavily working on negotiations – before things would inevitably heat up around the fat, juicy pie that had been the Dime Lions' patch. Unless someone would attempt stepping into Rollins' shoes and try taking over the whole outfit. A week ago – especially after that brutal run-in with their own Dregs, that Kaz had not only survived but used to revive the legend he'd managed to built before they'd left for the Ice Court job – Jesper would have expected Kaz to be the first to try just that. But he seemed to have no interest in taking over any of Rollins' businesses, not even the Kaelish Prince. It didn't figure, like quite a few other things refused to fall into place as Jesper had expected them to.

Hell, _nothing_ was as it was supposed to be. Inej had suddenly decided to become a seafaring slavers' menace and simply left. Nina had lost the man she loved. Matthias had lost his life. Wylan had found something quite different than the payback he'd been going for. And Jesper… he felt like his gambling problem had only been the ridiculous tip of an iceberg that was going to capsize his life. Kaz was the only one of the six of them to come out of this entire mess with precisely what he'd been aiming for, for years. Or had he? Where was his elation, then? The gleeful rubbing of hands over the piles of money? The next-level scheming? He saw none of that, sensed only absentness and going through the motions…

They sat down on two stone bitts at the canalside with their waffles, the sunshine slanting oddly through the muddy grey-brown of Kaz's irises. Jesper couldn't make himself get the words out. He'd resolved to ask Kaz about the Wraith but face to face now, it was impossible. He had no right to ask, he'd merely make a fool of himself assuming the wrong things, and have them thrown back to his face; mangled through Kaz's twisted mind they'd sting and cut and bruise. Without conscious thought Jespers restless fingers touched the little scar where Kaz had split his lip during their brawl in the clocktower. He remembered there was another question he had been meaning to ask again.

Kaz said something then. The rough, cracking syllables turned into words in Jesper's stunned mind with a tiny bit of delay. "He was my brother."

Jesper choked on his surprise. He had no idea what to say. But he didn't think for a moment he'd misunderstood this strange little sentence. Profound confusion swept through him, as he searched for _some_ thing in that unreadable face that never offered answers on the best of days.

"He is dead, of course." The words were almost too low to hear now. The crow's head on the cane turned towards Jesper, even as Kaz looked away, then suddenly back at him. Jesper could not even begin to decipher the anguish he saw lurking behind those eyes. Purely on impulse he placed a comforting hand on Kaz's shoulder, and almost toppled from his seat when Kaz started violently, croaking "Fuck this." The waffles fell from his hand as he stood, red flooding his pale cheeks.


	3. 03: KAZ

AN: Kaz is slightly out of his depth... who would have thought.

* * *

 _KAZ_

 _The human condition left little doubt that people most yearned that which they could not ever have; and that told Kaz exactly how likely it was he would ever be with Inej._

"I don't do fretting," he'd answered her, already speaking to an empty window.

He did not do goodbyes either. So, of course, he was not with Jesper and Wylan on the docks a few hours later. And if he went to see _The Wraith_ start on her maiden voyage from one of the wooden cranes at the other end of Fifth Harbor, no one knew. The ship appeared tiny on the waves, and since the Council of Tides had opened the currents for a number of large trading vessels this morning, she vanished from sight within less than an hour. And he was glad.

* * *

It was another late night, and after he had brought the books up to date, he felt his thoughts, and sentiments, start the crazy, merry dance that told him he had deprived himself of sleep for too long. Now they snuck up to him, drooling over his shoulder, pinching him and nagging at the edge of his frustrated awareness until he finally gave in and watched them.

No matter what he had people assume Kaz did possess a range of different emotional states. He even knew them. But he knew better the faces he needed to present to the world: Cold rationality paired with willingness to take risks, and on occasion slightly unhinged violence were what the Barrel saw. Focus and anger seething right under the surface were what members of the Dregs, including Per Haskell, usually got to see. His acerbic disdain for people was well-known to the ones of the closer circle like Jesper, the boy who never seemed properly afraid of him, and Inej, who... His thoughts tangled, and he cursed under his breath. Inej, who had always been trying to draw the good out, but who had made him feel like he was losing his mind now. This exasperation at himself was rather new to the emotional mix, and he hated it.

The exasperation at her was nothing new at all. So, she'd had a theory, damn her. What the hell did that even mean? And why had she done it? Why would she do this to him? _Words have not been invented for such an occasion._ Indeed. So, had that been it? Her attempt at showing how grateful she was? Well, thanks, no thanks. And whatever her theory, she had been very wrong about the fretting part anyway.

Damn her, he was not going to sit around and lose any more time on introspective bullshit that would get him precisely nowhere. That's where he was from and where he was _not_ going back. The gang, _his_ gang, needed a plan to secure the new power that was in their reach, one that was smart, and if possible cheap in money and lives. What the Dregs did not need was a boss who spent every waking moment-

Kaz grabbed his cane, stood abruptly and put weight on his bad leg. Nothing like pain to remind you of what really counted. For good measure he made himself climb up to his old rooms to try and get some sleep. Every single step an exercise in discipline.

He arrived at the top, opening the creaking wooden door. Discipline was one thing, necessity another. The smart thing would have been to sleep downstairs on the settee in his office, not up here, where everything reminded him of what he did not want to think about, namely Inej in general, and that last memory of her that haunted him ever since she had left a little over two weeks ago, in particular. Unfortunately what he wanted or not seemed pretty irrelevant when it came to her. Ever since she'd left, he was oscillating between frustrated disbelief - and close on that anger at what she had done. It was bold. And reckless. But she had always been that, too, hadn't she? _I can help you._ Maybe he should not be surprised? That girl had never trodden carefully – he snorted at himself, because, of course, that was precisely what she did above all else, in the literal sense. But in all other respects she did not, and in that she was as different from him as she could be: Her anger as easy to see as her curiosity, her excitement, her satisfaction at seeing a job done, her pride in outsmarting their so-called betters, her respect. Or so he'd thought… She'd challenged him and never stopped trying to see beyond his perfect mask, and that was, what he had never quite been able to fathom.

He limped into the little bathroom, keeping his eyes and thoughts firmly on the reality around him. She was not there, watching him, staring at his back, staring at his chest and arms, and his naked fingers like she wanted to put the memory somewhere very special in the storage of her mind. He did not exult at the appreciation he had been fairly sure he could see in her eyes those few times that actually he changed shirts in her presence. _He_ had not been the one making this into something more, right? Yet, there was no denying he had started them. He had bought her. Had _needed_ to get her out of that place, even if he was never going to admit that to a living soul. All the rationalizing came afterwards, but the truth was, there had been signs she might be useful - but even he knew better than to believe he had been able to see the extent of her valuable talents that night, hardly covered up by sheer silks, a wisp of a girl. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second and violently shook the image from his mind.

After rather perfunctory ablutions he moved towards the cot in his old office, because he simply could not sleep elsewhere. The last thing he wanted was for anyone downstairs to hear him at night. And he was pretty sure he would give a good show at the moment. He needed to get this under control, and fast. Every now and then he thought he might succeed in making himself believe it had just been a dream, not one to be proud of, but not exactly the first of its kind either. But every night he woke up, shaking, clammy with sweat and caught between the recollection of her every touch, her breath on his skin, her... arousal on his fingers, he knew better. His true curse, his perfect memory, left no doubt what precisely had happened, and since he'd been dumb enough to close his eyes instead of watch, every time he did so now, he found himself back there and then. It had proved impossible, even for Kaz Brekker, to sleep with his eyes open, though.

So now here he was, lying on his stomach, his hands tangled in the sheet, once again wide awake on the threshold of night and early morning, breathing hard against the excited pumping of his heart and the fierce burning in his loins. He snorted at himself. He was so fucking tired of it. Every time, every single night she was there, waiting right behind the veil of sleep, taking his hands and pushing him onto this very bed. His subconscious was not even creative. It showed him his treasure hoard of moments that he had collected over the years. Her slender form, silhouetted against all sorts of light: moon, sun, bone light, fire, candles, stars. He knew he had been quietly obsessed with the way she moved, but that had mostly been professional, and a matter of envy. Her fluid movements, her perfect balance and uncanny silence had made him notice her physically like very few other people. Still, he had not thought about her that way. Or had he? He had gravitated towards her, at times, he knew. That awful moment in the bathroom at the _Geldrunner_ was of his own making, that much was certain. He had sought her out. He had wanted her more than anything then, and hadn't even been able to touch his lips to her skin. But now the memory of her nimble fingers and her mouth on him were so vivid he bit his tongue in his sleep to keep from crying out. He knew, because he'd woken up with blood in his mouth half a dozen times. It was there, in perfect clarity. He felt the press of her warm skin against this chest, the feel of her small breasts that sent a shock through him he felt vibrating in his chest, his absolutely empty mind and then shooting straight down with no conscious thought in between. Her face, serious, concentrated… hopeful… was the last thing he'd seen, after that it was all a sharp collection of sensations that took him to the brink of coming right before he woke up, every damn night. He moved against the mattress in exasperation, gaining absolutely nothing but more self-loathing. He turned on his back, staring at the moonlit ceiling. Was this even normal? He suspected it sort of was. Pity normal was clearly one of those things he didn't do.

Against all hope and feeling more than a little silly he finally gave in and tentatively touched his fingers to his... He groaned, and not from pleasure. He knew a hundred words for that bit of male anatomy but even in his own mind he stumbled to a halt. What was wrong with him? He had seen a dozen people go at it, fucking in side alleys up front, from behind - and seriously, the mechanics were not exactly difficult to figure out, were they,- fumbling inside their clothes, on one occasion he'd delivered a particularly apropos threat to a mercher who was just being sucked off by his favorite, at the Menagerie. As Haskell's lieutenant he'd been a regular visitor to a number of brothels from age thirteen - which, one would suppose, was the age boys were officially allowed to the pleasure houses, for a reason. But nothing he'd seen and heard there had ever seemed the least bit relevant or elicited a response of any kind in him. At some point he had come to the vague conclusion that he just couldn't. It was an idea that had left him absolutely indifferent. One distraction less, one defect more. All nicely balanced.  
Thinking back carefully he counted two, maybe three times when he was about thirteen that he had woken to sheets wrapped around him, all wet in the front, and a curious sensation to his prick. Other than that? He was hard-pressed to think of anything that might count.

With Inej he had always felt a very different kind of... pull. He remembered her, all of a sudden, as he'd first seen her, not quite fifteen and him only just. They had been almost on eye-level then, right before he'd started growing. He'd been nothing but wiry strength and evil intent. She had been incredible, utterly earnest, and treating him as seriously as anyone ever had. And he had not had to harm or hurt her to get that respect. She'd immediately recognized who and what he really was, he had always thought. But then, he'd had her contract, hadn't he? Was it all a lie, built on dependency and fear, after all?

The idea brought him up short and he became suddenly aware again that his fingers were still lying lightly against his erection. He froze. What to do. He knew it would not work. The slide of skin, even his own skin, over the rigid flesh pumped full of blood was way beyond the sort of sensation he could stomach. Loose flesh and seeping body fluids, the smell of it all, the past would rush in like a tidal wave. He wondered if he might be just about desperate enough to try it with his gloves on. But he felt himself go soft the instant he considered that. And yet, when she had touched him, it had taken so ridiculously little to send him falling, flying, crashing and coming for the first time in his life. It was humiliating beyond belief. He doubted he could ever truly forgive her that she'd simply gone and pulled off his armor.  
Still, it _had_ worked... based on pure surprise and basically overriding his mind. He hated the shame and the aftereffects it had now. But there could be no doubt Inej had left behind something new in a place where nothing - except for fear, if even that – had existed before. He may not be able to touch, but it was possible for him to be touched – and that was an idea that he had truly never entertained before.

 _Whatever it takes to fight our way out_ , she'd told him, scattering those few clear thoughts he'd been able too come up with lying on his bed in that strange haze. Hope had raised its ugly head. That traitorous bastard. He cursed himself, because this _was_ an idea that undoubtedly he had given her through his words on Black Veil. Another moment of honesty that Inej had squeezed from him. As much as he believed what he'd told her about them – he could never have imagined she would take his words this way, and he had certainly not been able to afford hope that they actually might fight their way out of this particular corner. That was why he'd been so determined to let her… to make her go, wasn't it? He had sworn it to himself, that day after Inej had been captured by Van Eck through his idiocy.

But in the end, he had not been able to stay away from the harbor that morning; he had not been able to forego seeing her face, the possibility of hearing that laugh one last time. And he had taken off the gloves to show her that there were parts of him that might – maybe – be fixed. Did he truly believe that? Then, why the fuck had he done it if he was truly willing to give her up? After all this time, he had done the one thing he had always, from the very start, been trying to avoid – giving Inej false hope. Maybe it had been an act of revenge? After all, he was Kaz Brekker, and never something for nothing worked both ways.


End file.
